Chapter Text
The reflection off the wine glass wavers as he turns it in his fingers, almost like the haze seen over distant asphalt on a hot day in the city. They haven’t had dinner like this for awhile and it might be nice but neither of them is sure yet.
One of them knows a guy who knows a guy and they actually got a pretty nice table. They can still hear the kitchen bustle, but they are secluded next to a back window. Bobs of yellow and red light reflect like faerie lights off the wet sidewalk outside, making up for the lack of a moon.
The bones were cleared by the waiter not a minute ago, and all that was left was a coffee and a wine glass, both half empty and not looking to be refilled. They continue to make small talk, but appropriate topics are running thin and one of them is playing with the stem of his glass, big blunt fingers surprisingly gentle. The other stares as he drinks from his own cup.
“What I wouldn’t give for good mead.” The first grumbles and the second spares him a laugh, running a fine pale finger over his rim of porcelain. It’s a skilled play, a tiny tear in this veneer that can now be picked and worried until it opens like a wound and spills out what wants to be said.
There was a time when they weren’t shy like this. One would be loud and abrasive and the other would banter back, quick and sharp but not unkind. They and their wives had been friends then and there’d been none of this sort of thing. Both wondered if they could ever go back, hiding the question behind another swallow of coffee, gulp of wine.
“Sooo.” the smaller of them draws the syllable out until it is thin as a wire, drawn taught between them.
The other only chuckles. “So.” He pauses before pushing on. “How’s your heart?”
Suddenly the pale one’s choking on a mouthful of coffee, looking for a napkin. “Damn it Loki!” he manages to grunt around coughs.
Loki passes him his own napkin a glint of his old self shining through his eye. “Well, we have been beating around the bush all night.”
“My heart’s fine damn it. Look, I’ve gotten coffee on my sleeve, thanks. Nice to see you’re still a bastard after all these years.” Wiping his lips he tosses the napkin on the table where it casts strange shadows against the burgundy tablecloth.
The smile is still there when Loki reaches to pick up the cloth, smoothing out it in front of him on the table. “You wouldn’t recognize me otherwise.”
The other grumbles and rubs his eyes. “No, I suppose not.”
Silence stumbles in again as Loki starts to fold the napkin. The other reaches across the table and steals his wine glass and drinks the rest of the alcohol in a single draught.
The grin on Loki’s face is impish as he watches. “Your brother could’ve used skill like that back in the day. Remember that time with the giants?”
“Yes, I remember. You idiots got played for a couple of fools.” But he’s grinning too despite the insult, his lips pressed tight together and the corners of his mouth upturned.
A waiter comes by and asks if they’d like anything else or just the check and they accidentally talk over each other in their effort to reply.
“Just the bill, friend.” Loki says on a second try and the young man nods and leaves them be. A car drives by and briefly turns their faces white then red as it comes and goes.
Loki knows time is running short, maybe two minutes until the man comes back with the check and he will pay, because it is the least he can do, and then they will go their separate ways. Who knows how long it will be until they see each other again. They both know that this world too must end.
“I’m sorry Baldur.”
Baldur looks up from where he’d once again been staring at Loki’s hands as they worked at the napkin. The bigger man’s mouth looks like a painful wound cut sideways in his face, angry and red. It’s frightening to see the headstrong son of a bitch so unsure. Although a part of him wants to act out of character and damn the man for past misdeeds, he can’t.
“I know.”
This world too must end, and they wonder what part they will play in it this time. Maybe, if they’re lucky, neither of them will have to die.
Laughing to himself even though it isn’t funny, Baldur reaches for the check at the same time Loki does, and Loki is surprised to see Baldur’s hand land lightly atop his own.
This time his smile is huge and his laugh is booming. “Come on Bee, I think paying for dinner is the least I can do.”
Baldur shakes his head, a sigh of laughter brushing past his own lips. “My father had you chained to a rock and tortured for centuries. I think you’ve paid enough.”
For a moment Loki looks thoughtful but Baldur knows it is a ruse even before the man reaches for his wallet. “If you insist, you can pay for your own dinner but I’m not gonna have this tacked on to my debt.”
The waiter comes a minute later and they tell him to keep the change without sparing him a glance. Folded from the napkin is a howling wolf, balanced on the edge of their table, looking on as they talk into the night.